


All I Need

by Nina_683



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, I Don't Even Know, I wrote this at 4am, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13265205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nina_683/pseuds/Nina_683
Summary: In which Kageyama is depressed, Oikawa is stressed and they're all too done with life.Art school Au where KageOi are rivals.





	All I Need

Oikawa stares at the blank canvas in front of him, paintbrush motionless in his loose hold. He'd hoped that sort of aimlessly staring at it for a bit would strike some inspiration for his final project, but it's just made his head pound violently for the past half hour.

Admittedly the headache was probably the questionable combination of 3 cups of coffee and a Red Bull at 2am, but the point still remained that he'd achieved absolutely nothing. 

Iwaizumi was probably sleeping back at the dorm, resting for his final exam in- Oikawa glances at the clock, wincing at the neon green 4- two hours.

Meanwhile Oikawa was here, at this bloody art studio that always smelt vaguely of wax and piss with two broken lights that the technician couldn't be bothered fix, leaving the room in extremely dubious lighting.

He groans, banging his head on the canvas pitifully. He should've just listened to his parents and majored in Business like Iwaizumi. He runs his hands through his hair stiffly, before stopping as he realises he's just spread streaks of blue paint through his hair.

Rubbing the paint between his fingers, he's decides he's had enough. The painting is due in at 8am, so he has 4 hours to get his shit together. Okay, he breathes out forcefully, I can do this. He slaps his cheeks roughly, getting off his stool and throwing on his ratty coat.

First stop, more coffee.

It occurs to him as he stands in the 24 hour Starbucks that his piss will most likely be red by the end of the day with the amount of caffeinated beverages he's consumed in just the past few hours, but can't find it in himself to particularly care.

It's as he debates internally whether or not another can of Monster would send him into cardiac arrest that he notices a small head of black hair sitting by the window, papers strewn haphazardly around the table as he scribbles furiously.

Oikawa receives his order from the counter (an Americano- he’s striving to achieve a caffeine high at this point), and walks towards the boy sitting by the window slowly. He stops behind his shoulder and smirks, leaning over his back.

“My my.” He teases softly, and Kageyama jumps, almost knocking his sketchbook off the table in his surprise.

He snickers as the boy turns around exasperatedly. “What do you want?” Kageyama groans, rubbing a hand over his eyes. 

Oikawa is surprised to see that Kageyama looks almost as bad as himself, with eye-bags deeper than the Grand Canyon and a skin pallor that's verging on help-I-haven't-seen-the-sun-in-weeks territory.

He shrugs. “I just came to get as close as I can be to legally high and saw you here. Naughty naughty, doing your final art project at 4am. In Starbucks no less.” He adds as an afterthought.

Kageyama rolls his eyes. “I'm almost done with my sketch, then I'll put it on the canvas.” He points to the crinkled paper in front of him, the grey lines marking it too light for Oikawa to actually make out the picture. “I'll bet you haven't even put anything on your canvas yet, and you don't even draft it in sketch form first like me so you don't have an excuse.”

Oikawa scoffs. “Oh yeah? I'm actually almost done with mine.” He lies through his teeth.

Kageyama raises an eyebrow. “Really? Alright then, I'm sure it will be great!” His lips stretch in a sugary smile. “Just as great as your second-place painting for the exhibition!”

Oikawa straight-up growls at that, because the exhibition is still a sore point. When he was in his second year of uni there was an art exhibition for future prospects to be held, and being the most talented artist in his year, he was ready to win the competition to have his painting hung in the exhibition.

When the day of the results came and he realised that first-place had gone to a snot-nosed first-year of all people, he was furious. He didn't even know first-years could enter the competition.

He still went to the exhibition, but mainly to search out the first-year who had beaten him and threaten him, which then turned into a convoluted rivalry between the two.

It didn't help that Kageyama had been moved up to the second-year class for Fine Arts so they were virtually constantly competing within the class. It was living hell.

Occasionally though, they found it within themselves to be civil, usually at the dark hours of 3am under the flickering lights of the art studio, drinking while procrastinating on their work.

Drinking with Kageyama was always an experience, as he became emotional and revealed things he wouldn't normally.

Oikawa remembers one night in the studio, as he was concentrating on his painting, Kageyama turned to look at him and stated; “I used to idolise you.”

“Huh?”

“I heard about you when I came here. The genius in the second-year who's going to be a professional artist. I wanted to meet you so bad, I was so impressed by all of your paintings that I'd seen around the university.” He explains, taking a sip from his glass.

Oikawa clears his throat. “Did I- did I meet your expectations?”

Kageyama shrugs, smiling softly. “I came to find a mentor, but I found you. I can't compare that to my expectations because you're not who I thought you were, but I think that's better. It’s not the relationship I want, but it's the relationship I need, to push me.”

From that moment up until even now, he's never known what to make of that response and neither have brought it up.

Snapping back to the present, he decides to leave the café because he's wasted half an hour here already and really can't stand seeing Kageyama's smug face for any longer.

With a departing middle-finger at the third-year, he leaves and heads back to the studio, determined and slightly high in caffeine, ready to complete this project once and for all.

#

He finally finishes half an hour before the deadline and promptly collapses among rolls of newspapers in one of the art cupboards, to the terror of the teacher who opens it the next day to find him inside.

He discovers that yes, his pee has turned red and yes, it's possible to sleep for 48 consecutive hours. But really, it's just all part of the uni experience. That and crying at ungodly hours in the night because you've finally snapped and wonder how many tablets of Paracetamol you'd need to take to overdose.

He gets the joint second-highest grade in the class with Kageyama for the project, and honestly isn't that pissed. If anything, the paintings kind of complement each other.

At least Kageyama didn't get the highest, he thinks. It's a far cry from friendship, but it's tolerance, and it's a step forward as far as Oikawa's concerned, and it's all he needs for now.


End file.
